A Confession
by dearest27helpless
Summary: “Look, it’s a spider doing push ups on a mirror.” Briley. Riley/Ben


Riley bit his lip and lowered his head. He tried to breathe normally, but was finding it wasn't working out so well. He watched Ben match his fingertips together; it reminded Riley of something his Latin teacher once said.

_The teacher pressed his fingers together, keeping a few inches between his palms._

"_Look, it's a spider doing push ups on a mirror."_

Riley swallowed. This was stupid. Maybe he should just get up and leave. He had thought he had nothing to lose. He and Ben were already fighting, and he thought it would never be resolved. He might as well just tell him, just to get it out. But maybe he was wrong. Maybe they could have resolved the original argument. Now, there was no chance.

None.

Whatsoever.

Sometimes, Riley seriously doubted his intelligence. Like now, for instance. What the hell had he been thinking?

Well, now that he really, honestly, no-way-in-hell had anything to lose, he might as well push Ben a little.

"Are you going to say anything?"

Ben slowly shook his head, seeming to be comprehending Riley's confession.

"I—" Ben cut himself off.

Riley clenched his teeth. Ben was too analytical. Why couldn't he just spit out whatever he was going to say so Riley could get on with his poor, pathetic, boring, stupid, hermit-crab life?

"Ri—" Ben sighed. Again, his choice of words didn't please him, Riley knew. Ben was so picky, so fickle. Too careful.

At least Riley took a risk now in then.

When he was sure there was nothing to lose.

If he was maybe a little tipsy.

And was feeling particularly lonely.

But it was the truth. He did love Ben. Immensely. And now that he had told him, he had sobered up quite a bit. How, he didn't know. The important thing was: he was sober…-ish. After purchasing the Ferrari, Riley had grown to have quite a tolerance for alcoholic beverages anyway. The car had "braved him up quite a bit", as he liked to say. Back when Ben was with Abigail, and Abigail was, well, a nuisance, to say the least. Not that he didn't love her to pieces in a platonic way, but…Ben was Riley's. Couldn't she see that?

Well, apparently, she had. Whether or not she had some inside information on Ben's feelings was beyond Riley. He hadn't approached either on the subject. In any case, Abigail decided at a Christmas party it was time for a little vacation. And no, Ben, you can't come. You should stay with Riley, then. I know you can't cook. That's why you should stay with Riley.

That was quite the night.

Riley didn't ever remember his mother's soap opera's love triangles being this complicated. Never did one part of the triangle give up the vertex angle's vertex for the other leg's happiness. That just didn't happen in the fictional world.

Ah, but this was real life. Riley had grown accustomed to remembering that little fact with a sting.

"Ben?"

"Quiet, Riley. I'm thinking."

His voice was calmer than Riley expected. It wasn't demanding, it had a complete lack of attitude. It was a request. Riley decided to obey Ben.

Riley passed the time by listening to the clock, making up patters with its ticking.

Tick tick tock.

Tick tock. Tock tick.

Brum, brum, brum, brum, brummmm. Five o'clock.

Had they really been sitting here fifteen minutes? Riley rubbed his temples. He took off his glasses and polished them the best he could on his sweater. He could remember Ben once told him that sweaters looked nice on Riley, and if he wore them more often, maybe he could get a girl.

Riley had thought, _I don't want a girl. I want you_.

Ben didn't know that. Until now.

"Riley…um…"

"Yeah?" He tried his best to say it encouragingly.

"Uhh…" Ben sighed again.

"Ben, whatever you have to say, say it. Don't worry about the wording. Just…say it. Please. If you're trying to spare my feelings, don't bother. The more you hesitate, the harder it is on me. So please, Ben. Just say it."

"No, Ri. It's not…I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because. It's not like you just decided to spit it out. Don't tell me you didn't spend a lot of time thinking about it."

"Agonizing over it, actually," Riley corrected in a mumble.

"Exactly. So…just give me a few minutes. I promise, I'll…I'll say something. It needs to be right though."

"How long will it take? It's a simple, 'Are you crazy, Riley? That's disgusting.' Or a 'Yes, Riley, I love you too. Now let's go adopt ten children and live the rest of our lives together.'"

"Ri, it's not that simple and you know it."

"That's because you're making it complicated. It doesn't have to be."

"Abigail would know how to solve this."

"Abigail isn't here because she knew!" Riley said, exasperated. "She knew how I felt, and she decided to get out of the way."

"Did she say something?"

"Well, no, but…"

"Riley, please. Please just give me some time. I promise. Soon."

Riley sighed. "Fine. I'm going to go…I don't know. I'll be in my room."

Riley trudged up the stairs slowly, hoping that maybe Ben would stop him, spin him around and give him the best kiss he's ever had. Ben didn't make a move except to turn his head towards the fireplace and absentmindedly stroke his chin slightly. Riley turned forward again and completed his trek up the steps.

His room was messy. It had been like that since Sunday, the day after he cleaned it. What was the point? He could never find anything when his room was clean. Ben's room was always immaculate and Ben rarely ventured into Riley's room because of its state. He always scolded Riley mildly for his room-keeping skills, but never really did anything about it.

Riley wrinkled his nose when he saw the mess on his bed. Two modems, a tangle of wires, a monitor, a laptop, and a yellow pad of paper with blue lines. He didn't particularly feel like cleaning it up, so he turned to his red beanbag in the corner of the room. He removed the single book from the mass of fabric and beans and threw himself down into it.

It was like drowning, only he could breathe. It felt kind of nice. Riley wondered for a moment what it was like to drown. He had had that one experience. The close call. There were a lot of close calls in his life, he realized. Too many to count. Too many for comfort. Too many.

Ben was not a close call. He was a call. A full on call. No brakes. No taking-your-foot-off-the-accelerator. It was full on lead-foot. And once Riley was in, there was no stopping. In an inch was too deep.

And like quick sand, his realization had been slow. Riley always had been slow to realize positions in relationships. Usually, however, he thought he was friends or close with someone when it would turn out that they weren't. In the end, he would be hurt. It was strange, it being the other way around, but Riley wasn't sure he liked this way all that much more. In fact, it might even be worse.

Riley tapped his foot to an inaudible beat.

Dammit, where was Ben? This was ridiculous.

He checked his watch. Two minutes? That's absurd! That's plenty of time…

"God!" Riley groaned quite loudly.

Ben had, apparently, heard him, and said, "Riley, get over yourself and give me ten damn minutes. It won't kill you."

Riley crossed his arms and furrowed his brows. "Jerk," he muttered.

Having always been stubborn, Riley kept his pouting face in the same position for five minutes. Finally, he released the expression, only because his muscles were protesting quite aggressively.

This was quite enough.

Riley pushed himself up into a standing position and started marching down the stairs. Not watching where he was going, he was surprised when he felt himself walk into this wall of flesh. He looked up to find Ben, his eyes very serious.

Ben hesitated, momentarily. Then, he leaned down and pressed his mouth to Riley's. Riley tried to deepen the kiss, but Ben wouldn't let him.

"Next time," he whispered.

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